


Captain Zappers Games

by flamboyo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Banter, Canon Compliant, Minor Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Minor Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Video & Computer Games, YouTube, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, no smut no romance just two bros playing videogames, not quite but eh, set in late 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamboyo/pseuds/flamboyo
Summary: “I’ve already said no. I’m not exploiting my relationships for money and clout.”“Mr. Tomlinson-”“No. I drew the line at Harry, and now I’m drawing another one at Zayn, too.”*A new video streaming platform offers Louis and Zayn to sponsor their program, knowing how they’re both interested in video games, and how loyal their fanbase is. The only problem? For the general public, Louis and Zayn are still arch-enemies who had a row in 2015 and never recovered, not re-found best friends who love each other (if possible) even more than before.Based onthis dreamI had.
Relationships: Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 54





	Captain Zappers Games

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, some months ago I had this beautiful, heartwarming [dream](https://chrysopon.tumblr.com/post/190251118864/i-had-a-dream-where-both-louis-and-zayn-were) where Zayn and Louis were just chillin' and having a good time, despite the whole world thinking the opposite. Didn't think much of it until some days ago, when I, umh, felt the need to procrastinate my life a bit, and finally wrote it! Hope you'll like it :)

Louis wakes up alone, wrapped up in his cool, clean sheets. Harry is already in the studio, rehearsing for his first world tour, and Louis conceded to himself a lazier morning than usual. Later he will be attended in his studio as well, but this morning he had time to be more laid-back and enjoy this bit of free time he has.

That’s why, when his manager calls him a second before he can have his first sip of tea of the day, he gets _that_ annoyed so fast.

Sighing, he places his mug back on the table and replies to the call.

“Mr. Tomlinson,” he greets him, cold, professional.

“Matt,” is the only thing he says. _It’s morning here,_ he could add, but there’s no need to be an ass, right?

“I’ve called you because I've received an interesting offer, that I'm sure will… Intrigue you.” The choice of the words his questionable, but their meaning _does_ intrigue Louis.

“Yeah?” Louis peaks up. He has a song soon to be released, and he loves this one. It's a new sound, and it goes heavy on the guitars and the chorus. He feels positive about this one, like it could be the start of something _new_. “From who?” 

“Robert Whelan, from _Streal_.”

“Never heard them,” he comments, a bit disappointed. 

“Didn't think you would. They're new." _That's a good thing,_ Louis thinks. He loves going to new shows, support smaller productions, get involved in a more familiar environment. Journalists from smaller programs tend to be less rubbish, too. “They're a new streaming platform to play video games.”

Louis stops in his tracks. He was sure fixing his tea while his manager was talking wasn't a good idea: there was no way he heard that correctly. “What?” He still asks, for good measure. 

“They're already in competition with _Beam_ and _HitBox_ , their market is growing exponentially, and they will probably become leaders in this field. Also-”

“Okay, good for them,” he cuts him off. “But why would I do that? I'm a singer,” he reminds him, bitter. 

“Of course Mr. Tomlinson, of course,” he pacifies him, which does nothing but making him even more annoyed. “But they've asked your collaboration, as well as Mr. Malik's.”

This time Louis stops for real. Everything stops. His manager is still talking, providing details and arrangements: all things for which Louis doesn't care at all. 

“Why would they do something like that,” is what he decides to clarify first. “Did you tell them something?”

He's not an expert in law, he doesn't know if he could sue his own team for leaking information about his private relationships. Probably not. That being said, his friendship with Zayn has been too secretive, this past two years, to be presented back _to him_ just like that. So secretive, they didn't even tell about it to their friends and boyfriends, at first, which generated such a quarrel with Harry that Louis hadn’t the fondest memory of. There’s no way a random streaming company knows anything about them.

“Of course I did not,” he assures him, too sugary and confident, and sometimes Louis actively hates him. This is one of those moments. “It's just that both of you have talked about _Overwatch_ in recent interviews, so they asked both to you and Mr. Malik. They hope for a collaboration of sorts, that’s obvious.”

 _Obvious my ass,_ he nearly says back.

But, yeah, the _talks_ about _Overwatch_. Zayn at least had the common sense, in his interview, to brush around the subject and move on, while Louis, in his fervor, had to add 'I play it often, with a friend'.

That _with a friend_ was studied and dissected attentively for days by the various fanbases, always ready to link anything he says back to Harry. Most of the time they aren't wrong: Harry and he share the vast majority of their lives, and have been doing so for the past seven years. Sometimes it was confusing for Louis to understand where he ended and where the love of his life started.

But videogames have never been a Harry thing: he gets headaches too easily, is too jumpy and gets annoyed when he doesn't know what's happening. Also, he's the biggest pain in the ass when he doesn't win, which is almost always. 

“No,” he replies after another pause. “I'm not selling my friendship for a random streaming company. Couldn't give less of a shit, to be honest.” 

On the line, Matt sighs. Louis would hang up, but knows that won’t change anything. 

“Mr. Tomlinson,” he starts again. “This could be an amazing promo for both of you. Mr. Malik will release a song soon and-”

“ _Zayn_ 's song,” he interrupts him, a bit too harshly, “Is a great one. He doesn't need any shady shit to promote him. And mine is a good song a well, and I’m sure it’ll have good reception if _you_ promote it properly.”

“That's why I was calling you-”

“I want radio tours, concerts, interviews about _my music,_ no stunts involved. Not video games. That's-" he has no idea how to say, _that's just for us_.

No idea how to say, _we stopped being best friends and then everything crashed down and it was the most miserable period of my life and I had to go through all of that without him. Gain that trust and that affection back was, for both of us, so much fucking work._ No idea how to say, _playing and streaming stupid shit and yell at each other and the game was therapeutic, for us, and I'm not selling that for anything in the world._ It's too personal. Too real. And it's nobody's business except for his and Zayn’s.

"Playing video games it's not something a singer would use to promote a song," it's what he settles down for, at the end. "What kind of message does that send? I'm a musician. Not a YouTuber or whatever they're called."

"Just think about the media exposure you'll both get. We can blacklist some questions for future interviews, but everyone will be interested in the two of you, and you'll get invitations for any show you could want. Not to add that-" 

"You should provide me those even without this shit," he reminds him. “Even without any stunts.”

"This opportunity is too good to waste it like this, Mr. Tomlinson."

He's so fucking annoyed. “This is absurd. I’m a musician, and that’s how I want people to see me. I’m not some desperate dude who fucks around because he doesn’t know his place.”

“Just think about it. It’s a good promo for both of you, and it could lead towards-”

“I’ve already said no. I’m not exploiting my relationships for money and clout,” he growls, and that’s final.

“Mr. Tomlinson-”

“No,” he cuts him off, properly angry now. “I drew the line at Harry, and now I’m drawing another one at Zayn, too." he rages out. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll have my breakfast. Don't call me again about this."

He hangs up, annoyed and bitter. This fucking day didn't start in the best way possible. 

He stares at his tea, now cold, with his phone still in hand. He sighs, dumps it in the sink, and goes making a new one. While the water is heating up, he starts typing:

_Bro, you won't believe what Matt just asked me to do_

Without waiting for Zayn to reply (he won’t, not for days and more probably not at all) he locks his phone and leaves it on the kitchen table. When the water his ready, he makes himself his second tea and goes enjoying the Los Angeles sun on the terrace, his phone forgotten, still on the table.

~*~

He hears from Zayn a couple of days later.

He’s alone again, always is these days. Or at least that’s what it feels like: most mornings he wakes up to an empty bed, has work to do all day and manages to see Harry only in the evenings. The only wonderful, positive part of the day is that one; that, and playing video games with Zayn during the afternoon, if they’re lucky enough to have a break at the same time.

“Mother _fucker,_ ” Zayn growls in his ear, to no one in particular.

They’re on the same team for this round of _Fortnite_ , because when they play together _no one_ can beat them. Well, usually nobody can.

“Cover me from the right, you-”

“I can’t do that, I’m out of ammo, they-”

“Watch out! On your left!” he screams, realising just then that another player had sneaked up on them. It’s too late though: Louis is too far to cover for him, Zayn is out of ammo, and they both lose their lives.

In a second, they’re both snarling curses that unknown player. Louis pushes away his keyboard, irked, and by the sounds he hear from his headphone, on the other side of the planet, Zayn must have done the same.

“That motherfucker,” Zayn is still muttering.

“Come on, Zee, they must have been eleven,” he mumbles back, knowing how much Zayn hates those retorts.

Sure enough, Zayn starts a series of insults to Louis, too, to which he can’t do anything apart from laughing out loud. After a bit like that, Zayn is in good spirits again, ready for another round.

“Oi,” Louis calls. “Did you get my text, the other day?”

“Yeah, probably,” Zayn agrees, without specifying if he read it or not.

Louis rolls his eyes to no one in particular. Zayn will never change, won’t he.

“It was about the sponsorship for _Streal_ ,” he fills in. “Did your manager mention anything?” he scrolls to see the various sets they can play for the next round. 

“Mmmh, yeah,” he says, offhandedly, still adding nothing more.

Louis waits a couple of seconds. Nothing. “… And?”

“And, I was waiting to talk about it with you.”

“Oh,” Louis stops. He didn't expect that. “I just told them _no_.”

“Yeah, so I was told.”

And he sounds almost… Bitter? Pissed off? Maybe that's too much, but they aren't on the same page as Louis has though. His confusion grows.

“You would have done it?” he asks, his cursor now still on his screen. Zayn's one is still too. Maybe they should have a FaceTime instead of talking through a server for _Fortnite_.

He can hear Zayn’s clicking his tongue. He’s looking for his words.

“Not under their terms, no,” he says in the end. “But I've been thinking about it, and… I think I could see some positive aspects of it.”

Louis has to scoff. “Really? _Positive_? As if the One Direction talk wasn't already too much for you.”

“Yeah, it _is_ too fucking much. That's why maybe it could be a good move to take it back in my hands a little.”

“Sure, if you don't wanna get another question about anything else for the next five years-”

“What if, for once, you let me speak? Without your input?”

Oh, Zayn sounds properly pissed. Louis bites his tongue and remains silent. Zayn is not the hothead he always gets painted as, but if there’s one thing that he hates is people talking on his behalf.

So, even if Louis is confused about the whole situation, he knows that poking at him never works. Zayn talks a lot and is one of the funniest friends he's ever had, but he also plays his cards always close to his chest - and, generally speaking, likes his space. If he wants to add something, he will at his own pace. 

Sure enough, after some scrolling through the various settings, he starts again:

“I have One Direction questions blacklisted from my interviews, obviously, but… I don't know how is it for you, but anyone who approaches me starts with the idea that I hate all of you to bits. That I'd feed you to wolves, and don't get me wrong,” he stresses. “I absolutely would have done it, not even that long ago.”

“Cheers lad,” Louis can't stop himself 

Zayn scoffs. “Tell me I'm wrong.”

Louis is sincere when he says: “You're not. You had all the reasons to.”

God, he had. One Direction as a whole fucked all them over, but was especially brutal with him. The way the media, the fans, the journalists treated him afterward was deplorable. Any type of attention Zayn had was always traced with malicious intentions. 

“Point is, I'm so tired, you know? There's just…” he sighs, and he _does_ sound tired. Louis has no idea what time is it in London right now. “There’s so much hatred, all around me. No matter how many times I say that we're in a normal relationship, no one ever believes me. They just want the drama. More than the music, but even more than reality.” 

“What's gonna change, then? If we do this?” Louis wonders out loud, because he can’t see any good side of this situation.

A pause.

“That… Listen, everyone will have their opinion. That's never gonna change. But maybe this time it will be a good one. I'm just… I'm tired of… hate.” _This world doesn’t deserve you,_ Louis is tempted to comment, but he knows Zayn would only disconnect from his stream and not talk to him for months if he does. “I’m tired of pretending to hate all of you, especially _you_ ,” Louis' heart softens. “And having no idea what you're all up to, too. As if we didn't spend a week together, two months ago.”

They did, for the first time since 2015, and it was quite something, to put it mildly. Even if Zayn and he are on good terms now, Zayn is still not the closest to Harry and Niall, given the fact that he hasn't spoken to them as much as he did with Louis. Liam, on the other hand, is above all of this: he and Zayn got engaged at the end of 2013 and they never stopped being together. So, nothing to mend there.

Back to the present, as much as Louis can understand him, he still isn't sure of what he's saying. 

“So what? You wanna become a YouTuber now?” he asks, hoping to sound… _not like an ass_ would be enough.

He knows Zayn is rolling his eyes solely based on his breathing pattern. “Course not. It can be just for once.” 

As much as Louis understand his point, he still isn’t sold. He can’t stop thinking about the aftermaths they will have to deal with, and he can’t imagine a _live stream_ being worth all of that. A _paid_ one.

“What if we post a photo, instead?” He tries. “Why does it have to be something monetized? It's gonna look like we're selling… us. That we’re selling our friendship for some clout. I'd hate that. I'm not selling you.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

They both laugh, and Zayn picks another game to start. His cursor wanders over the _start_ button for a second too long.

“It’s just that it could be so _fun._ We wouldn’t have to do anything too weird, we play through stream every day already, and… What if we do it for… charity, for example?”

Louis stops fumbling with his headphone. “Charity?” That’s always interesting. 

“Do you have any idea of how streams work?” Zayn asks, nonplussed. When Louis doesn't respond, he just mumbles some more curses at him.

“Forget about it,” he says, and he’s still a bit pissed. Before Louis can ask him anything, he goes back to switch to _single player._ “Watch out, I’m gonna bust your ass.”

Louis is onto his keyboard in a second, just in time for Zayn to press _play._ “That’s not fair-”

“Stop whining-”

“Let’s play for that damned live stream, then.”

Pause. They’re still landing with their parachutes.

“Deal.”

Some minutes later (because that’s how much Louis resisted, _those fucking teenagers-_ ) Zayn is laughing soundly in his ears, and Louis has to accept his fate.

~*~

He asks for Harry’s opinion before deciding anything; he always does.

Harry is so nervous lately that talking to him is like confessing your undying love to a brick wall, but he’s as present as he can be, when Louis explains his anguishes. He listens to him, while Louis shows him both sides of the argument, nodding silently.

Maybe it’s because Louis presented the situation way more in Zayn’s favour than in his - he can’t deal with Harry going against Zayn, _not again_ , not when those two fuckers are the most important people in his heart - but Harry, in the end, advises him to go with it.

Louis calls his manager the morning after.

~*~

"So," he starts, unsure. "Hi!"

The chat at the one side on the screen blows up immediately. Louis should be used to that, considering how he spent these past seven years, but he hasn't done anything like this in ages. It's a bit overwhelming, really.

He's standing in front of the desk, leaning over the screen. Zayn, half-hidden behind him, is sitting on the couch they have in the back of the room. They've decided it would be funnier to be little shits and tease people a bit. 

“So, I don't know if I should wait until more people join or-”

“Just go on with it, bro,” Zayn cuts him off. “They know what this is about.”

Louis doesn't even manage to raises his eyebrows that the chat, if possible, gets even crazier. They picked up his voice, but he’s still blocked Louis’ frame.

“I wanted to do the grand reveal,” he whines, a bit disappointed, trying to catch up with the comments.

“They still haven't seen me.”

That's true. The majority of the messages are just screaming at whatever his hair is doing, or about the decor of the room. Some in particular are crying about the fact that _Harry_ is there with him. He laughs by himself at that: Harry just started his world tour in _California._

“Okay, so I'll say stuff, and then maybe we will repeat it.” The chat keeps going by itself. “So, I'm partnering today with _Streal,_ which is the platform we're using, to play a bit with a friend of mine, here.” He turns around to see Zayn glued to his phone, face blank. That means he's a nervous wreck. “While we do that, you should find two buttons above the chat - oi, let me know if they work - for donating to the Eden Dora Trust and the British Asian Trust for which-" he looks back again, to find Zayn a bit more ready to appear on the screen, phone in his pocket and an alert look in his eyes. "My friend, here, is a proud ambassador of. So… Zayn? Wanna join?" 

He steps aside, to reveal his friend behind him.

At the mention of his friend's name, the chat becomes a blur of messages, so many of them Louis can't read them. He just sees glimpses, like _OH MY GOD FJEHDJ_ and _DID HE REALLY SAID ZAYN WTF_ and _didn't he call u a bitch,_ but he ignores them to smile warmly at his friend appearing behind me.

The chat is long forgotten, and Zayn plops to the chair beside Louis', a chill expression on.

“Sup,” he says, and adds nothing more. He’s still nervous.

Louis snickers, just thinking about how many brains are exploding right now, all over the world, just because they're filming something they have been doing since forever. He takes a sit, too, and their elbows brush. The chat explodes again. 

“So…” Louis lingers a bit, looking at his friend. Zayn has his eyes fixed on the chat though, so he continues with his script. “With this stream we are just gonna show you how to use this platform, play some of our favorite video games and a chat a bit. I'd say, we can have a go, innit? We have Overwatch, here. Or Fortnite, too, since everyone is playing this now, or maybe-”

“Someone just called you a basic bitch in the chat,” Zayn pipes up. 

Louis has a confused burst of laughter and says, towards the webcam: “Thank you for your contribution, love. If you wanna-”

“They're asking if we have a name,” Zayn interrupts him again. “Like, as a duo.”

He is clearly more interested in the comments, which, okay. Louis wonders for a second if he's looking for the nasty ones, but that would make him too sad and he doesn't want to spoil his good mood. 

“Should we have one?” Zayn wonders. “Like proper YouTubers.”

Louis thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, something like, Louis and Zayn Play Stuff, maybe.”

Zayn blinks. “That's a shi- that's a rubbish name.” This thing that they can't swear during the live stream is _rubbish_ indeed. “Sounds like a _p-,_ like a bad idea,” he corrects himself.

Louis scoffs, offended. “Maybe we should just play, don't you thin-”

“What about, Captain Zappers Games?”

Louis snaps his head back to Zayn so fast he's scared he broke his neck, but _what?_ He sends him a questioning glance, reminding himself that this is a live stream and therefore can't be edited. A glance that says, _you really got that from 2012_ and _they're all gonna die_ and _didn't we say to keep the fanservice tamed, this is just us, no bullshits added._

But Zayn just shrugs, unfazed, probably asking back why he's making such a fuss. Okay, he's right, they should _play_. 

“Captain Zappers Games is it! Quite a mouthful, but it works. What do you think?” He asks to the chat, but the blur of messages keeps being too fast for them to catch anything valuable. He sees a couple of people crying and keysmashing, so it’s probably fine. “Perfect, I’d thought so too. Let’s start, shall we?”

Zayn nods, and they start looking for the game they want to play. Louis finish explaining what they’re going to do, and it’s a bit awkward, in a way he has no idea how to fix: he doesn’t know how to speak to a camera, not when he’s entertaining thousands of people but can see none of them. They’re just sitting in Louis’ gaming room, the two of them like hundreds of times before, and it’s hard to remember they have an _audience._

Louis is taking his time to explain how the game works, making Zayn impatient:

“Everyone knows how to play _Fortnite_ , come on,” he rushes him, eager to start playing and stop just nodding beside him. He moves to steal his keyboard, but Louis is quicker and grabs it with both hands.

“I'm talking to the monks who hadn't had internet for the past decade,” Louis points out, still with the keyboards up in his hands.

“... And first thing they do, is playing _Fortnite_?”

“Are you going to criticize monks, now? What’s next? Nuns?” Zayn just stares at him, nonplussed. “Santa Claus?”

 _That_ assures him an eye roll, for Zayn to then press play with the mouse, not waiting for Louis to put down his keyboard. 

It makes them start the game with some unnecessary screams, but at least while playing things get better: the idea of performing gets subdued to them just having fun, screaming at their opponents and banging their elbows on the desk for the fervor of the game.

They lose again, because of course they do, and this time they have to bite their tongues to not say what's in their minds. Instead, they read some questions before having another go. 

“Are you friends for real,” Louis reads, scrolling up the chat.

There are tons of… _Not good_ questions, to put it mildly, the majority of them towards Zayn. Louis will never understand some people, and, for the sake of his mind, has stopped trying. 

He turns to Zayn, with a hint of laughter on the tip of his tongue. 

“Are we?” Louis wonders. “Is this all fake?”

“Are you gonna strangle me as soon as we turn this off?”

“If you don’t stop drawing in the enemies, maybe I’ll do it.”

“You know what? Maybe we aren’t,” and they're both trying a bit too hard, like whatever is true between them is also too personal to share. Sure, they’ll do a live stream, but they won’t reveal how exhausting and heartbreaking it was to get their friendship back. “You always cheat when we play.” 

Louis gasps, appalled. “I do _not._ ”

“Let's do one not in teams, then, yeah? So you'll see how much he cheats,” he adds, towards the camera on top of their screens. 

“How do you even cheat at this,” he mumbles, controlling where his character is landing. 

“I don't know, man. That's on you. Your talent.”

“Maybe it's just that you're shi- that you're not as great as I am. Sore loser.” To stress his point, he hits him with his elbow, lightly.

“Do you _see_ this,” Zayn exclaims, appalled. “ _That is_ how he cheats.”

“ _You_ always start the game before I’m ready,” Louis rebuts, but they’re nearly landed already.

“Mate, if those two seconds are the ones that make you lose, maybe we should change game.”

Louis didn’t have a retort in time, because as soon as they land, they get assaulted by an entire group of armed fighters. Needless to say, the game ends shortly after.

Louis is getting annoyed with the embarrassment he’s casting above himself; Zayn masks it a little bit better, but they’re both ready to play something else.

“Y’know,” Louis mutters, dropping off his keyboard. “Maybe we _should_ change game.”

“Just because you lost again?” Zayn can be a pain. He does have that ability.

“And you did not? Come on, got some suggestions for us?” he asks to the camera.

The chat is, as always, running so quickly it’s impossible to keep up with it. After a bit of scrolling through more people crying, Louis picks up another question:

“ _Are you still in contact with the other boys?_ ” He asks, turning to his friends. “Mmmh.” This was the point Zayn wanted to clear the most, so he leaves him to answer.

After some hesitation, Zayn says a: “Well, yeah. Obviously.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Louis backs him up. 

“They're all doing great things, right? Like, Niall-” _damn, Zayn picked the safe one_ “-Just got an album out, right?”

“Good tunes on that one, yeah, yeah. Maybe we'll catch up with them, too, who knows” Louis winks to the camera.

“Liam and Harry,” Zayn continues. Louis will thank him for that, later. “Well, they're both very busy at the moment but-”

“Right? Not playing Fortnite like us,” Louis blurts out, realising a second too late he sounded way too bitter. “Which is fun by the way! Look, umh, look how much money we've already raised!” In his defence, they’ve raised thousands of pounds, already.

Zayn catches him, and smoothly adds: “Yeah, so let's keep playing. But something else, okay? Bet they’re tired to see us losing.”

Louis accepts the bait, jokingly rolling his eyes. The chat is suggesting a lot of games they’ve never heard, but the pick the one that is repeated over and over: _Overcooked._

“We’re not great at cooking, aren’t we?” Louis comments, while Zayn nods in agreement. Zayn is a decent cook, but definitely a better friend.

The tutorial seems easy, the game appealing, and it’s enough to convince them.

“Well, lads,” Louis announces, switching their keyboards to consoles. “We have no idea of what that is, but-”

“Going in blind.”

“Yeah.”

Of course things get desperate the second they start the actual game: the pacing is way too fast for them, they have no idea of what they’re doing and cannot be coordinate to save themselves.

“Oh… god, this is going too fast.”

Even complaining is difficult when everything goes so quickly. Louis is going to _die_. If he can’t complain nothing is worth doing anymore.

“Put that in the pot don’t just complain-” Zayn has already a streak of desperation in his voice. Amazing.

“I’m chopping-”

“ _Plate_ , we need to plate this-”

“Pass me an onion, pass me an onion, _f-_ Zee pass me an _onion_ -” onions are on his side, _come on_.

“Give me that tomato, why are you keeping it there-”

“I’m not! I’m not doing anything I just-”

“Yeah I can see that, pass me my tomato-”

“Move out of the way! What the _f-_ I have to _serve this_.” Louis’ character is drawing circles on the screen, _god if Zayn doesn’t move out of his way he-_

“We need clean dishes, go wash some plates.”

Louis is appalled. “I am on _chopping duty_ ,” he retorts.

“And yet, you’re not chopping anything.”

“It’s cos you don’t pass me fu- the _onions_.”

“Time is almost over, that soup is ready, _come on_ , I still need a plate, we-”

“Onion soup is disgusting by the way. Who the f- who’s eating so much onion soup in this restaurant? I need to talk with them.”

Zayn is whining by now. Louis is scared he’s really going to strangle him as soon as they turn the live stream off. What a delightful moment to remember that yeah, Zayn is chill and Zayn is calm, but he’s also competitive _as fuck_ and loves a good win.

What a delightful moment for Louis to realise that teasing him is so much more fun than winning the game. 

“ _Give me a plate_ and please _stop talking about soup_ -” 

“ _The game_ is about soup-”

“ _The soup_ is almost on fire, give me a _plate_ or I swear to god-”

“Let’s switch places, I’ll serve it, I’m taking my tip.” Louis can’t even finish the sentence by how much he’s laughing.

“The tip is shared!” Zayn is screaming, Louis is laughing too much to play properly. “The tip is _points_! There’s no tip! Give me _that,_ time is almost over and-”

Poor lad, he can’t even finish screaming at him that he’s cut off by the game ending. They got only one star, and they have more failed plates than completed ones. They’ve failed the level and go back to the start. 

Zayn is holding his console so tightly his knuckles are white, and Louis is laughing so hard, still, he can barely notice.

“Well,” he just said, once he can breathe normally. “That was fun, innit?”

Zayn turns to him, slowly, jaw still clenched. “Maybe _I’ll_ be the one to strangle you once this is finished.”

See? Louis can see in the future.

“Well,” he just says, patting his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to say this, but we’re not opening a restaurant. You could be a great chef, though.”

 _Finally_ Zayn gives him a smile. “Damn. Here goes our retirement plan.”

Zayn's retirement plan is moving to his farm. Louis laughs again at the image of them serving onion soup for the eternity, surrounded only by horses. 

They wrap the live stream up after discovering they would have to decently redo this level to go to the next one; they had already silently agreed to never play this ever again. Louis has already enough kitchen nightmares in real life to add some more in his time off.

“Before going, we want to remind you again that this live stream was sponsored by _Streal_ ,” Louis announces in his best YouTuber voice. Damn, who has he become? “The money we were given to do this will go to the charities as well, the two we all have on the screen. Thank you so much for everyone who has joined us-”

“While we were screaming at soups.”

“While we couldn’t pass even the first level of a cooking game,” Louis agrees, laughing. “And of course thank you to everyone who has donated.”

“We wanted to remind you that _Streal_ can be used for many purposes, like gaming online-”

“But also to see concerts in live streams,” Louis adds, slightly winking at the camera. The chat, in its corner, gets even more frenetic. Yeah, Harry is doing his first world tour all by himself. Sue him to feel proud of his baby.

“As well as many other things. We will leave you some links if you want to check all of this out and-”

“Are we saying our goodbyes?”

“I think we’re ready to go now.” Zayn’s eyes are gleaming.

"Oi," Louis remembers the most important thing. "Last thing but surely not the least, Zayn here," he stresses by putting his left arm around his friend's shoulders. "Has a single out, and with Sia herself, too. Be sure to listen to it." He gives his most convincing look to the camera. 

"And Louis has a new song out by the end of the month," Zayn continues, smiling even more than before. "Keep your eyes and your ears open, people. It's gonna be a good one." 

They say their _byes_ to the stream one last time, and disconnect the server.

The screen says, live stream _ended,_ but apart from that everything is the same in the room: the computers are still whirring, the professional lights are still on, and they remain for a couple of seconds in their positions, fixed.

They’re back in that room as they had been hundreds of times before: just them, the computers on, no audience in sight.

“Was cool, innit?” Zayn still has that sparkle in his eyes and is rubbing his chin, all delight and satisfaction.

“Was pretty cool, yeah,” Louis agrees, pushing Zayn’s chair. “Are you ready to be publicly friends again?” Louis teases him.

He’s still coming down the buzz that the live stream gave him, and by looking at how bouncy Zayn is, he’d say that his friend is in his same situation. “Get asked questions solely about me? Being followed by the ghost of my presence like an old fart? Hearing nothing but, _‘oooh, how is your best friend Louis doing?’_ ” he keeps poking him, enjoying way too much the way Zayn puffs and rolls his eyes at him.

Zayn stops his chair from drifting away by locking a foot under Louis’ one, and using it to get closer to him again. Louis half expect him to push him or his chair away, or for him to be a dick in a way or another, but he just says:

“I’m ready to be your friend, always.”

And _holy fuck,_ Louis wasn’t expecting that level of sincerity so out of the blue, and it surprises him so much he almost chokes on his spit. Zayn has a hint of laughter behind his eyes, and he’s still looking like they’ve done the most incredible thing ever. He's such a _nerd._ Louis will be forever grateful that they got to put aside their troubles and became friends again. 

He extends his arm towards him, waiting for a fist bump. “So… to Captain Zappers?” It still sits so weirdly on his tongue, that particular composition of sounds he hasn’t pronounced in years.

“Sure,” Zayn agrees instantly, meeting him halfway and hitting him gently with his fist. “To Captain Zappers.”

**Author's Note:**

> I miss zouis :(( that's it that's all you need to know about me.  
> If you want to cry about zouis with me, you'll find [my tumblr](https://chrysopon.tumblr.com/) here, and my [zouis tag](https://chrysopon.tumblr.com/tagged/Zouis) here too.  
> Here you will find the [tumblr post](https://chrysopon.tumblr.com/post/621654678744301568/captain-zappers-games-59k-ive-already-said), if you wanna reblog it or save it.  
> Tell me what you think of this! I hope to write more zouis in the future. Byeee xxx


End file.
